


The Spider and the Fly

by CosmicStarlight22



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cannibalism, Castiel is Hannibal, Dark Castiel (Supernatural), Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Dean is Will, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mind Manipulation, Murder, Slow Burn, Talks of Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicStarlight22/pseuds/CosmicStarlight22
Summary: In the city of Chesapeake, Virginia, a known cannibal hailing under the name of The Chesapeake Ripper, roams dead in the night and stalks his prey. To the Ripper's surprise, an unbreakable connection is formed between him and a man who's unknowingly hell-bent on taking him down. Will Dean catch the man who's been a terror to many, or will Castiel conquer over him and make him an offer so delicious he cannot refuse?(Supernatural story based on the Hannibal tv show.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N:) Hello! Hi there, if you're a new reader. If you're someone who's already reading a story of mine, I promise to try to update my other stories soon! To give some backsight to this fic, I've always wanted to do a Hannibal inspired story, and I knew I had to cross it over with Supernatural. I was initially going to make this a one-shot, but I realized I wanted to expand this story far beyond a single posting. So instead of a one-time thing, you guys are going to get a full-fledged story involving Dark!Castiel in the place of Hannibal and a version of Dean in the place of Will Graham.
> 
> Some of the storylines and quotes in this fic will completely mimic that of Will and Hannibal's from the tv show, and I do intend there to be a romantic interest between Dean and Cas. So fair warning...If you don't like the idea of these two being together or don't like reading very dark stories about death and murder, this will not be the fic for you. Those of you who keep reading past this point, I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> Disclaimer- I don't own Hannibal or any of its characters in any form of its books, tv show, and movie media, as well as any quotes and plotlines pulled from such. I also will never own the tv show Supernatural, its characters, or anything associated with it.

**Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.**

**-Dr. Hannibal Lector**

* * *

**_Dean's POV-_ **

Some people often wondered what the driving force for someone to become insane was. Was it because of a person's upbringing? Being rejected one too many times by the ones they thought could be a lover? Or perhaps it simmered down to the need to possess everything in life that tries to slip out from our control? If you asked me, the answer wasn't so profound as opposed to blooming from one simple desire, a need not to be alone.

Loneliness is what turned sane people mad, which nudges them past the point of sanity. Being alone in the universe and having no one to answer our call for companionship is what turned beating hearts cold and desolate. For most humans being lonely is what pushed them towards the edge. But I, however, found no greater peace than that of being alone with the comfort of solitude.

Some would prefer to call me insane for not wanting what every human being was meant to desire deep down to our core, but I was not like most people. To me, being alone was the equivalent of taking a deep breath of air when moments before you felt like you were suffocating almost to the brink of death. I felt more alive when I was alone versus being sucked into the cesspool of emotions barred to me by every person who happened to meet my gaze.

To possess something, some would call a gift was laughable when others couldn't even fathom what this so-called gift entailed. I could strip a person down to their bare bones in my mind, and I could see them, see them for who they truly were far beyond hidden beneath the surface of their flesh. I could see every dark secret, every lie, every triumph as if it were myself who witnessed each event through my own eyes.

I could feel what someone was feeling, see their desires be them either good or bad. While some would die to understand human emotions such as I did, I would've rather died than to pass this curse onto any other. To have your mind entangled inside another's and experience a life that wasn't your own would end most of the will powers some of us held near and dear. Luckily for me, I had a moderate grip over my willpower, and I used it to guide me to seek out the darkness that lies within other minds and vanquish them.

That all led me here to this moment in time standing over a girl that was barely even half my age who'd never had a chance to vanquish the demons in her own life. As I studied her lifeless figure beneath me, I wondered what she would've accomplished in her life had she not met a fate too horrible for someone so young.

I brought a gloved hand down to stroke through her bloodstained blonde hair and noticed the different pigments seemed to complement each other quite well despite the fact it was blood mixed in with the golden hue. I ran my hand down past the girl's hair until I reached the left side of her upper stomach, where a substantial wide-cut marred the once flawless skin. I could already tell without a biopsy that something was taken from the girl, a type of trophy scavenged from inside the confines of her body.

The murderer of the girl who I felt in my soul to be a man had planned to kill her, but feelings of regret swirled high in the air, which lingered bitterly on the tongue. Disappointment wept for an unfortunate, unavoidable situation. The man had never wanted to kill the girl but always knew he might have to. Somehow the girl had interfered with the man's nefarious plans, and he had only one path left he could've taken with her knowing the knowledge she had obtained. From how the crime scene was left a scattered mess and as much as this killing was deemed necessary, I knew this wasn't the man's proudest murder.

A pink faux fur blanket was rolled up next beside the girl waiting to be taken in for evidence. The blanket had been covering the girl when I had arrived, and it almost seemed to represent as a symbol to preserve what little modesty she had remaining in death but more so came across as a misguided attempt of rushed worship.

The man felt neater and more well developed than most other killers as he seemed to be armed with a taste for the artistry of death paired with the desire to make his victims more beautiful in death than they had been in life. This girl wasn't held to his usual level of standards he abided by; she far surpassed them with her innocence, which he usually would have steered away from. The girl had held a high sense of morality, which I think he'd admired and would've avoided snuffing out had it not been for the dreadful circumstance of her finding out a few of his secrets.

If the girl had not tipped the scales of her fate, she would've been spared, but destiny had a different calling for her. The girl threatened the man's way of life somehow, and she still would be able to if I could isolate any clues or find any hidden details left behind. I closed my eyes, ready to prepare my mind for the mental task ahead of me when my eyes snapped back open to the sound of a throat being cleared.

"Dean?"

I turned around as I stood up and was met with the all too familiar sight of concerned eyes scanning over my body, looking at me as though I looked like I was on the verge of collapsing at any moment. I sighed and raked a hand through my hair as Jo's eyes continued to sweep over me, looking for any sign of my wellbeing to fuss over. When Jo was done with her mental assessment of me, she bit her lower lip unimpressed with what she saw. I must've looked like a mess to her with my hair sticking up in every direction, and the huge darkened bags under my eyes betraying my sleep deprivation would do me no favors with her.

I mentally cursed at whoever had let Jo come in on the crime scene because I was not ready to deal with her scolding, albeit filled with well-meaning concern that was endlessly lost on me because I never heeded her well-placed advice. Jo held infinite amounts of wisdom within her, but despite all her well-meaningness, she could never tell when she was dealing with a lost cause, which in this case happened to be me.

As Jo geared up for what I assumed was a long paced lecture, I took a moment to study her in kind, and my findings left me sporting a deep frown. I was not the only one overworking myself as Jo's body seemed to quiver with exertion as if it's not had a moment's rest. Jo's long blond hair was tangled up in knots that looked like it'd be hell to brush out later. Jo's red-rimmed eyes projected the strain of what they'd had to bear witness to with probably very minimal amounts of sleep. So, in the end, it looked like we were both a mess, and neither one of us couldn't say anything in regards to so.

"Jo," I greeted her warily. "How long have you been here? Have you been to bed at all since I saw you yesterday at the lab?" I asked her.

Jo shook her head, frantically back and forth, and I could see her building herself up to deflect the moment away from herself. "No, I've been up all night working on a case until I got this call. Damn murderers can't help themselves from killing someone for even one night. It's a good thing I'm not tired, at least."

I pointedly ignored the obvious evidence, otherwise supporting her claim, and Jo's eyes flashed in warning, daring me not to argue with her. "It's a good thing then," I agreed with her.

Jo nodded at me in gratitude for not calling her out and silently repaid me by not asking about my sleep or lack thereof, which would've forced a lie out of my own mouth. Jo instead focused her attention on the crime scene at hand, and her face crumbled a little in sadness as she made her way over to appraise the dark scene left behind by a man and a few flicks of a knife. Jo took in the same details I did but clearly didn't grasp the underlying intentions of the scene.

"So what do you think happened here? Is this a case of an ex-boyfriend gone crazy or more of an unfortunate home invasion? What was the motive?" Jo questioned and looked at me expectantly, waiting for the answers she could already sense I had.

I looked into Jo's honey-colored eyes as she tried to impossibly see what I saw. I cleared my throat before lowering my gaze. Eyesight had always made me feel uncomfortable, and even with someone as familiar as Jo, I could never let myself open up to her because once that pandora's box was open, I'd never be able to reverse the damage. Focusing on the task at hand, I purposely blurred my thoughts and bit down my rising emotions as I dispassionately recounted my version of events for the crime.

"The man who did this knew the girl. She might've been a student of his or at least someone he knew well enough to know how she thinks."

"What makes you believe that?" Jo inquired before squinting her eyes to look at the girl more closely.

I shook my head side to side and shrugged my shoulders before replying, "It's just a strong feeling. The house shows no signs of breaking and entering. Someone let him inside. The girl's parents were asleep in bed when the murder took place, so it all points to her knowing the man who killed her. For some reason, the girl let him in without knowing his true intentions for her. I think she knew the man was dangerous but let him in for a desire to understand him. Whatever this girl found out was enough to make the perpetrator feel the need to silence her before she ratted him out. Whatever she saw would've been key to unmasking him as a murderer, but he was one step ahead of the situation because he got to her first before she could to him."

Jo hummed lightly, taking in what I'd said so far. "Do you think she witnessed him killing someone or at least suspected he had?" Jo asked.

"It's very likely," I acknowledged her theory. "This teenager definitely saw something she wasn't supposed to see, and the beast she came upon knew she'd eventually tell on him, so he took matters into his own hands."

"Poor girl," Jo muttered, brimming with compassion, looking over at the girl like a worried mother would. A piece of my heart longed to ache for the girl as well, but I smothered the emotion down before it could rise and cause me to lose focus on the case.

"She was unlucky," I sighed. "However, I don't have all of the pieces figured out yet. There's so much more I need to see to try to solve this puzzle. I need a true moment with her alone."

Jo sharply inhaled and held her breath as she pondered my request. She hated it when I let the empath entirely out, she feared for my mind without grasping the fact that it was not my mind I was worried about losing when I entered someone else's.

"Dean...Are you sure? I can stand quietly in the corner and just watch. I won't interfere-"

"Jo," I cut her off, "you know I have to do this alone."

I locked eyes with Jo long enough to get my message across. Jo's shoulders slumped with defeat as she knew this was the only way for me to finish the puzzle.

"Okay, Dean. I'll go, but the moment you see everything you need to see, I want you to pull yourself out as fast as you can. You know one of these days I fear you'll never come back the same," Jo admitted begrudgingly. "I don't want to lose you, Dean. You're one of my best friends, and I never want you to lose who you are." Jo sniffled as she admitted that last part.

I felt warmth bubbling up for my long-time friend, and for that, I tried to offer her comfort. "It'll be okay, Jo," I reassured her. "I always come back myself, don't I? With the same amount of grumpiness?"

I had thrown in the self-deprecating jab to make light of the situation, and it seemed to work even if just a little bit. Jo tearfully snorted in amusement before she shook her head with disbelief. I could tell she wanted to say more, but Jo refrained herself and gave me a thumbs-up before she walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door was fully closed and I could hear Jo's footsteps retreating downwards to rejoin the team, I finally let my guard dropdown. I shuddered as the overwhelming emotions I pushed down before suddenly surrounded me trying to overtake me, and I tried focusing again on the innocent life lying before me trying to ground myself. My eyesight started to blur, and I felt almost dizzy as I took in everything around me. Feeling the all too familiar signs of letting go, I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me away.

...

_(The golden pendulum swung back and forth seductively inside the dark recesses of my mind, and with each pass, the pendulum erased the blanket, the blood, and lastly, the dead girl. I now opened my eyes and saw a room more dedicated to a teenage girl rather than a homicide scene._

_I looked around the pastel pink painted room down to the cashmere carpet now free from the blood of its owner, and I laid in wait to see what would happen now that the room was restored to its former glory. The white bedroom door swung open, and two voices entered the room. I could see the girl clear as day with a nervous smile plastered on her face as she gestured for her uninvited guest to take a seat on her bed. The girl was radiating with poorly concealed fear, and I could tell that she hadn't known her guest was coming over, but she was too polite and too scared to turn him away._

_The man was shrouded in darkness, and while I couldn't see any identifying features, I could see his outline as he heeded the girl's request. Once the man was seated on her bed, the girl slightly relaxed as if she had been worried the man was going to try something. The girl stood opposite the bed as she talked to the man, and everything seemed peaceful at first until the girl started crying. She admitted something to the man, something she saw and unknown to her; he already knew everything she was admitting to having seen. The girl was in sight shock as the man barely reacted to what she said, and the girl grew bold, demanding he give her an explanation for what she saw._

_The man calmly sat watching the teenaged girl go from confusion to fury at not having received an answer. The girl stepped forward with anger in her voice, now demanding to know why she shouldn't wake her parents now and tell them what he'd done, or better yet the police. The man still let the silence speak for himself as he refused to give the girl an answer before he finally let his facade crack. The man stood up suddenly, and the girl stepped back in fear until her back connected against the wall._

_The man coldly watched his prey as he came towards her with all pretenses dropped. The girl was frozen, unable to move, let alone call for help as the man she thought she once knew got closer and closer to her still form. The man was only a few inches away before he finally spoke. He told her she was too smart for her own good, and he didn't want to have to hurt her, but there was no choice now that his freedom was in jeopardy._

_The girl finally understood what was about to happen, but it was too late to react as the man grabbed her and covered her mouth. The girl had tried to scream for help, but it was impossible to get more than a few muffled sounds out with the hand covering her mouth. The girl attempted to bring a heel back to hurt the man, but he was far too experienced as he easily dodged her attack._

_The man forced the girl onto the floor, and I could see now he was wearing gloves, covering his hands from leaving any fingerprints left behind. The man pressed his full body weight onto the struggling girl underneath him and released one hand that was detaining her so he could pull out a switchblade from a back pocket. The man wasted no time as he opened the blade and brought it down onto the girl's stomach. The girl's muffled screams did not affect the man as he raised the knife and stabbed her again this time, hitting an artery. The man watched as the girl quickly bled out, and he felt no regret for attacking her, but he did mourn the type of friendship he once had with her._

_Once the girl finally stopped moving in his arms, the man let her go, and her body laid still as he stood up. The man did what he came to do, but something was missing...He killed her, but it was still not right, he needed to honor her. He was in a hurry, and despite this not being his normal style, she still deserved to be honored in some way._

_The man knelt beside the girl and made a more extended cut she could no longer feel. He took his prize that was inside her and pulled out a bag to which he carefully stuffed in his new trophy. The man pocketed the knife as he surveyed the girl before rising to get a blanket from off of her bed. The man covered the girl entirely with her blanket, but not even that could mask the blood now pooling out around her, staining the carpet from now to evermore. Despite the mess, the man was satisfied, and with one last look at the girl he once knew he quietly left before he could be seen.)_

...

I snapped my eyes open in a blind panic and frantically looked around to see no one other than the dead girl was alone in the room with me. A sense of foreboding swept throughout my body, which left my hands shaking as I contemplated what I just saw and what it'd all meant. The man knew how to cover his tracks and knew how to leave a crime scene behind with no incriminating evidence. This man had killed for many years with no interruptions and with no suspicion, or at least with very little.

As soon as he caught the faintest whiff of being found out, he snuffed it out and would continue to do so while leaving bodies strung out in a never-ending death trail, which would lead to the shadow of the unknown man. To find this killer, I'd either have to have sheer dumb luck on my side or be able to crack his pattern and catch him red-handed in a murder spree. With all the tiny hints the man had given me of him, I knew to crack his pattern, and therefore learning his design would be no small task, but I owed it to all of his past and future victims to try.

I shakily rose to my feet, and without sparing a glance behind me, I left the room and walked downstairs. The commotion I entered into as I stepped off the stairs into the living room ceased, and all eyes turned towards me. The crowded folk in the room said nothing for a moment before Jo bravely spoke up for them. "Did you see what you needed to see?"

I nodded my head in affirmation to the posed question, and for once, it was Jo who dropped her eyes down away from mine in what I could tell was a sign of feeling pity for my mental wellbeing. I ignored Jo's obvious feelings with a slight twinge of guilt as I turned to address the commander in charge.

"It looks like I'll be accompanying you tonight, after all, John. We have a dinner to get ready for."

* * *

_**Castiel's POV-** _

Copycat eyes coldly stared back into my own, which reflected off the blade of the knife that I held close to my face. As I tilted the knife back and peered deeper at my reflection, I couldn't help but let my mind drift off in wonder into the vast sea of questions that resided within the confines of my head.

How many lives have I had cowering before me, have had the chance to see their own fear laced eyes stare desperately back at them reflected off this very same knife? How many of the poor souls got to see their own eyes begging for the mercy that they knew would not come? How many of the waste of spaces inhabiting human flesh has had the opportunity to see themselves lowered in such a weakened state that they had already known existed within them since they had desperately tried to hide that part of themselves from the world?

I'd been asked by many patients, students, and colleagues what I thought was the reason behind someone going insane, and it wasn't such a complicated question as some tended to think. The simple answer to the question was the masking of one's self-identity, which inevitably estranges them from the act of the person they pretended to be into the person they truly were.

Almost everyone saw themselves in such a bright light that didn't reflect who they truly were deep down to their core. It was those who saw the true light of their soul that acknowledged it and became it that had a shot of living genuinely free without any pretenses to hold them back.

To deny yourself who you really were and pretend otherwise was what made someone go insane. You could fake being someone you were not for many years, but pushing down your desires and your real sense of self, your facade would eventually crumble, and your mask would slip in the presence of others. You must learn to balance the perception of the person you wished others to see and, in turn, learn when to unleash the beast that resided within all of us so we could act out our primal natures. The longer you pushed down your primal self, the longer the beast inside would grow hungry, waiting for a scrap of action that would come decided by a choice of will or by a loss of restraint.

Once you'd learned how to balance yourself, you, in turn, would become free. It was true you had to play the game of morality and show compassion even if you felt none, but to survive in this world, others couldn't suspect you were different from them. Humans were supposed to empathize, respect, socialize, and even love one another because that was what was deemed normal by society. To prove otherwise was to be blacklisted and shunned by the population as a monster incapable of ever being accepted into the social norm.

You must play a role in public, but it didn't mean you could not ever be your true self in private. I'd learned from a young age how to hide parts of myself from the world and when to feed my inner beast. I knew I could never suppress my real self because, in the end, it would always be there and would eventually rise if suppressed. If you let yourself be free, you would experience the best carnal desires that were only known to man. If I hadn't been freed as a child, I think I would've been blinded to the joys that could be found in even the simplest of things.

It was only due to my knowledge and self-freedom that I could see past the cracks of reality which the world tried to hide behind a sunny disposition of hidden truths. Yes, the whole world was filled with danger as most knew, but it was so easy for people to ignore the dangers that lurked so close to home rather than the big picture of violence that they'd never be swept up in.

People easily feared war and other humans who threatened their sense of a peaceful existence, but in turn, they were quick to turn a blind eye to the evil that surrounded them at every corner. Red flags flew everywhere, but behind rose-colored glasses; they were easily blended in for favor of the ignorance of simplicity and pliancy of mundane life.

No one wanted to admit the damning evidence of the truth that some humans they encounter are predators hiding behind the veil of deceit. Maybe your neighbor watches your child from afar with a full-blown fascination filled with perversion? Perhaps the customer who had left such a charitable tip would come back to collect what he thinks he is owed after your shift?

The man who happened to be your therapist? What if he liked to play in the shadows and dispose of those who had no respect or worth? You could never know the purity of one's soul, so you must always be skeptical and wise, but few rarely were due to their false sense of comfort. Despite everything, though, I was more than pleased with the ignorance of others as it made it that much easier to get away with doing what I did. It was so easy to slip under the cracks of law enforcement by being someone that they saw would never pose as a threat to the wellbeing of others.

While at times I despised my charade, the necessity had always remained, and it wasn't like my profession didn't ever offer any opportunities for enjoyment. I got to witness others at their lowest of lows, and I could build them up or tear them down further with just a few well-placed words. In the end, my job suited my purpose, and it has led me to meet some fascinating people, not unlike one of the men I'd be meeting tonight.

The oven pinged in completion, and my thoughts were ripped away from tonight's entertainment as I went and pulled my creation out from the oven before it could have a chance to burn. I carefully carried and placed my pie dish on a hot plate to let it cool off, and I watched as steam rose off the perfectly baked golden crust. I couldn't resist myself as I leaned forward to smell my product born out of hours of work. The dish didn't disappoint as it wafered up tantalizing scents of herbs and spiced meats. It was almost euphoric to have made something so special, even though the guests eating it would never realize how 'special' it really was.

Not a lot of people realized food was a form of artful expression, and I took the utmost pride in everything I made. I took my time when preparing food and only used the best-sourced ingredients to ensure my recipes would have the desired results I craved. I was delighted with the knowledge that time and effort could create the most wonderful of meals, even something uncomplex such as a pie.

It was stunning to think of how a pie was so easily made if not for the fact that only your imagination determined the level of ease. Pie could be crafted and labeled into both classes of savory and sweet, and there were no limitations to what you could place inside of a pie you wished to make your own. I'd admit that while my pie only had a few ingredients, it was those that made the pie full of quality and worth the time to make.

I started humming as I removed my kitchen gloves, and I abandoned my pie in favor of surveying my dining room table for any imperfections. Gold-accented plates and glasses adorned the oakwood table contrasted by a maroon-colored table cloth. A few bottles of highly-priced vintage wine sat together unopened but ready to drink and ready to lower ambitions. I'd admit I chose to go all out tonight with the accommodations because it was not every night I had someone so anticipated, such as Dean Singer, enter my household.

I had waited for months to meet the mysterious likes of Dean Singer, and I was thrilled with how fate had woven our lives together at last. For so long, I'd heard of the mental talents wielded by an empath FBI profiler. A true empath that could enter even the most depraved of minds and see the world through their points of view. To possess such a cursed gift, I couldn't help but imagine one must lose a part of their self of mind when intertwined inside another. I wondered if the poor man could sleep at night with what nightmares I was sure he replayed endlessly on repeat.

I relished the feeling of anticipation, for I had longed to study such a mind so unique such as an empath's and to see what made it tick. I couldn't help but mentally praise John Winchester for this opportune meeting of chance. After all, this was all his idea. As the top agent in charge of the FBI behavioral science unit in this part of Virginia, even John knew he needed outside help for his current obsession known as the Chesapeake Ripper.

The Chesapeake Ripper...Who even coined that ill-fated nickname? For all the titles I'd been labeled as being dubbed as a ripper was the most outlandish one, for I was more so an artist of death. I murdered but only onto those who lacked respect and who had no worth being alive.

In a twisted way, one could say I was helping clear a righteous path for the Earth by helping to get rid of its trash. I may kill, but I had a clear directive, and I honored those I'd killed by turning who they were into something beyond measure after their deaths. That was my design and would always remain so.

My silent moment was interrupted as my doorbell rang, and I straightened out my posture and flattened my tie in response. It was time. I briskly walked towards my front door, and as I reached out to open it, one fleeting thought passed throughout my mind...I should invite guests more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N:) I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I'll admit it took me a while to get into the right mind space to be able to start this story; however, I'm ready to invest my mind into completing this fic. I have so many twists and turns that I'm going to throw in, and I couldn't be happier writing a story that includes two fandoms that I love deeply.
> 
> I want to promise some things will get cleared up, such as why Dean has Bobby's last name and why John's character is placed where he's going to be. I have so much planned for this story, and I can't wait to share more. So until then, I hope you guys have a wonderful day, and I'll see you in the next chapter! I also hope all of you stay safe and healthy during these dark times.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N:) Hey everyone, I'm back with a new chapter! :D I wasn't expecting to post again so soon, but my inner writing goddess blessed me with a few days without writer's block, and I took full advantage. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter where you'll see Dean and Castiel meet for the first time as they're about to embark on their first case together.
> 
> Disclaimer- I don't own Hannibal or any of its characters in any form of its books, TV show, and movie media, as well as any quotes and plotlines pulled from such. I also will never own the tv show Supernatural, its characters, or anything associated with it.

**Human emotions are a gift from our animal ancestors. Cruelty is a gift humanity has given itself.**

**-Dr. Hannibal Lector**

* * *

_**Dean's POV-** _

The sunset bleeds into the sky in an assortment of fiery red and orange hues that accompanied the yellow-colored sun as it prepared to take its leave in favor of its nightly orbed gray-toned counterpart. The sight of sunset was such a beauteous bewitching moment that captivated eyes into seeing the sun's artful descent into darkness.

For some, the sign of sunset represents the time of day they'd soon be released from their daily jobs before being able to enjoy the freedom of the night. For those like me, seeing the sun as it lowered its way below the horizon, I knew that as soon as the sun tipped the day into darkness that the chaos in the night would be released. The nighttime could be wielded as a pathway of discretion and solidarity that most took advantage of. You could accomplish more during the night than you could ever do so during the day, at least the acts that required the most amount of stealth as possible that the daytime did not provide as a case of protection. There was a reason most atrocities took place at night and being bathed under the pale moonlight; there were barely any people that could be witnesses to such acts. Case in point of ultimate secrecy.

I couldn't help but wonder if our host preferred the nighttime I thought to myself as I walked with Jo and John past the entry gate and across a gravel driveway, which led up to a massively imposing home that resided with just a body of one. I had to mentally refrain from letting my jaw drop at the mere thought of how much wealth one would need to possess to afford a lavish home such as this and to be able to maintain the upkeep of the estate.

For only residing by himself, it appeared Castiel relished appearances as his house and land seemed to be immaculate, and the scent of freshly cut grass attested to that statement. A multitude of colored flowers adorned the property, which appealed nicely to the eye, and neatly trimmed Buxus shrubs parallelled each side of the bottom outdoor stairway, which marked a welcoming pathway to the front door.

As welcoming as Castiel's house looked to be from a single glance, the simple viewpoint almost made it easy but not easy enough to ignore the repelling statements left by its owner. Towering wooden fences surround the house from a distance, and by the no trespassing sign by the front gate, I could assume Castiel wasn't as welcoming as one would be led to believe. I found that fact out quickly enough as motion detectors lit up instantly in a brilliant white blaze that temporarily blinded my companions and me just as we reached the stairway. I grunted with dissatisfaction as I rubbed my eyes for a few moments waiting for my slight to readjust back to full mass. Once I could fully see again, I gave John a slight glare, but he just shrugged his shoulders up in response.

It was typical of John to be unapologetic for any events of inconvenience or annoyance whenever I accompanied him on cases as long as he got what he wanted. I may have been well renowned in our department, but John always made it clear he was the one who held the end of my mental leash once we were in the field. He thought he had ownership of when my brain should be used for the benefit of a case. One would say our power imbalanced relationship was unhealthy. However, I was okay with being used by John if it'd help solve a case.

Although solving crimes is what I believed I was born to do, sometimes I missed the simplicity of teaching young minds at the FBI academy. It was so easy back then to bury my mind into my teachings, so my thoughts wouldn't stray into the encompassing nightmares of my past horrors. I would've stayed put in my semi-comfortable life if John hadn't shown up one day after one of my lectures with the promise of conviction that if I didn't return to my old job that countless lives would be lost when I could've saved them.

It took a lot of time for me to come around to John's offer, and I almost didn't accept it had it not been for the bubbling guilt that was threatening to boil over at the thought of rejecting something that would save lives such as like I used to do. I knew coming back to my old position would be detrimental to the mental blocks I had spent so long to make to barricade my inner demons from being released. I knew it but hadn't cared. If I had to face the visions of past ghosts and wake up with night sweats after experiencing horrific dreams, it was well worth it as the cost of saving lives outweighed my mental stability. I could only hope my mind could make it through fully intact once I divulged further into this new case. What I saw in that girl's bedroom earlier today was evidence of a monster that needed to be stopped before any more casualties could occur. If John was right about Castiel, maybe we could catch this murderer before more homes were painted red and bring the lives lost by the killer's hands to justice. It was my desire for that justice that fueled me as I took the lead by walking up the stairs first with the others closely following behind me.

Once I made it to the front door, I didn't hesitate as I began knocking loudly to summon Castiel to our location. John chortled behind me in amusement, and I turned around to see a rare smile plastered on his face as he peered at me with fondness. I gestured for John to take the lead before I backed away from the door after having heard incoming footsteps from inside the house. John walked ahead and stood in front of me, almost seemingly acting as a body shield, and then the door opened to reveal the sight of Castiel.

John had told me that Castiel was a brilliant man who was a shining example of professionalism, but it was Jo who had warned me about Castiel's dashing looks, and I could see now that her words bore no deception. If I hadn't known about Castiel's profession, I would have dared to say he looked like an esteemed male model who displayed a taste for fashionable attire judging by the elaborate well fitted blood-red suit he had on.

Castiel stood straight with his hands clasped together, and as I continued to study him, his eyes locked onto mine, and I, for once, felt no desire to look away. I couldn't help but feel trapped in time as Castiel, and I still looked at each other, and while it felt like a lifetime but must've only been for a moment, Castiel finally looked away from me to address John.

"Good evening John." Castiel extended a hand, and John was quick to reach out and shake it.

"Castiel, it's very nice to see you again. It's been a while." John ended the handshake with Castiel and winked at the doctor with familial warmth radiating off of him in waves.

"Indeed, far too long, I say. I've been missing having you and Mary at my dinner table, you both always offered me such scintillating conversations. " The skin underneath Castiel's eyes crinkled up as his lower face stretched to a wide smile that showed off his perfect pearly white teeth.

While John initially appeared pleased to be conversing with Castiel, he now seemed uncomfortable by the subject Castiel had brought up. I saw John twitch when Mary's name was said, and I didn't have to wonder why he seemed troubled by her mentioning. It was no secret at work that John and Mary's marital relationship had been on the rocks for a while now, but no one knew just how dire the state of their marriage was because John no longer spoke her name around anyone anymore. I tried to stay out of problems that weren't my own, but at times I'd wanted to overstep and ask John if he wanted to talk at some point because I could tell his failing marriage was wounding him deeply.

"I'll...I'll have to bring her over some time," John offered with little enthusiasm. "She hasn't been feeling well as of late."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, please give her my best from me." Castiel appeared like he understood he'd touched a sore subject as he quickly moved onto another topic. "I hope you all are hungry. I just took the meal out of the oven. And might I say it's so good to see you again, Jo," Castiel ended while beaming at Jo, and she, in turn, acknowledged him with a salute and a grin. Castiel then turned towards me, and a flash of emotion swept across his face, but it disappeared too quickly for me to identify what it was.

"Doctor Novak, it's a pleasure to meet you," I told the man as I held a hand out. Castiel took my hand in one of his, and he shook it with a firm grip. Our handshake lasted a few seconds longer than what was deemed normal, and Castiel almost seemed displeased when he finally dropped his hand away from mine.

"Hello, Mister Singer. I've heard so much about you. It is an honor to be finally meeting you," Castiel declared while slightly bowing his head as a sign of respect.

I began to feel my cheeks redden, and I was lost not knowing why I was having this type of reaction from a simple greeting. I tried to calm myself as I focused on remaining professional. "I hope you've only heard a few of the good things," I said to him with a smirk. "Also, you can call me Dean. Being called Mister Singer reminds me too much of my father."

Castiel tilted his head in a slight movement as he seemed to be internalizing something. Seemingly coming to a decision, Castiel countered, "I've only heard the best pertaining to your namesake. I highly doubt anyone has a negative viewing of your stature."

I chuckled at Castiel's words knowing that the last statement he said was truthfully incorrect. Castiel looked puzzled by my reaction, but he continued on by saying, "You may also call me by my first name. I seem to find communicating with first names makes it easier to connect with one far beyond a superficial plane of acquaintances."

"I can't disagree with that sentiment," I remarked in agreement with him.

I wouldn't say it out loud, but Castiel would be gravely disappointed if he expected to divulge into trying to create something more than distant familiarity with myself as I didn't forge trails to make friends with little but few. Friends were a complication I struggled to have and maintain. Being alone offered more comforting notions that didn't require constant effort.

Castiel looked momentarily pleased with the belief of his seemingly shared viewing, and he stepped back away from the door to gesture us inside. "Please come in," Castiel requested with a bow.

John seemed back to his eager self as he walked ahead past the threshold into the house. I let Jo go ahead of me and followed her coming up as the rear of the line as I now feel slight hesitation at the thought of entering the home. As I entered the house, Castiel shut the door behind me, and I longed to whistle at the sight of the interior view. I had thought the outside of the home was elegant; however, it appeared like the inside outmatched the outer. I was almost floored by the interior decorating and was left feeling stunned as I wondered how many rooms this house actually had. Castiel beckoned us to follow him, and he led us inside to a study room.

The room itself was quite remarkable, albeit modest bearing hardly any decorations. Still, you could tell by the high quality looking desk and bookshelf residing inside the room that Castiel had an excellent taste for furniture.

"If you three don't mind, I'm going to finish setting up in the dining room. Please feel free to look around, and I promise it will be time to eat before too long." Castiel shot us an award-winning smile before he left the room, and once he was gone, we began to look around the newly exposed space.

Jo and John explored the room with half held interest for a few minutes before Jo's stomach started to growl. I didn't comment on the noise as it grew in volume, and before too long, Jo's stomach sounded like it was roaring, and I could tell she finally had had enough.

"This is crazy, do you hear my stomach?" Jo demanded angrily.

"Did you eat this morning?' John asked, sounding almost bored.

"Of course I did, do think I'm stupid?! You know I can't go more than a few hours without eating before my stomach tries to eat itself. We should go and help Castiel. The quicker things are set up, the sooner we can all eat."

"Jo..." John started to say before he was cut off as Jo grabbed his arm and began to drag him out of the room.

"Don't 'Jo' me. I said we should help Castiel, and that's what we're going to do," Jo snarked at John. Just as they left the room, Jo shouted, "Come along, Dean!"

"I'll join you guys in a second, "I called after them.

"Well, hurry up," I barely heard Jo snap as they'd gotten further away.

Finally alone in the room, I walked across the black and red patterned carpet to where the large bookshelf resided, taking up a sizable amount of space within the room. As I studied the bookshelf without thinking, I mindlessly reached out and stroke a hand across the mahogany wooden exterior admiring its classic finish. I eventually dropped my hand away and turned my attention to look at the vast number of books neatly stacked in alphabetical order.

My eyes started sweeping over the book titles, and as I looked at each of them, one, in particular, caught my eye. I curiously grabbed the book that had caught my attention, and the book weighed heavy in my hands. The words 'Larousse Gastronomique' stood out in bronze-colored shading that contrasted beautifully against the emerald-colored book. I flipped the book open to a random spot, and I instantly felt regret at having dropped out of French class in high school as I could barely recognize any of the words written on the pages.

I flipped to a random spot once again, but this time there were pictures on the pages of fish, and what I assumed was their identifying names written above each one of them. I recognized a few of the fish as some I had caught before from when I used to go fishing with my dad. I was about to flip to another random section again when a voice startled me, which caused me almost to drop the book.

"Do you speak French?" Castiel asked. I turned around with the open book still in my hands and saw Castiel leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, but he didn't appear displeased by my snooping as a charming smile graced his face.

It took me a moment to remember that Castiel had asked me a question, and I awkwardly confessed to him, "I do not. I took a year's study of the language in high school, but the lessons required a lot of public speaking, and I have no affinity for public communication."

"Do you not like the swell of human proximity or the action of speaking to another?" Castiel queried as he straightened himself up away from his position against the door.

Castiel began walking towards me, and I frowned deeply in thought before I answered him. "Both. I find any interaction with another being to be taxing and extremely exhausting. There are a few people I can tolerate speaking to, but a classroom full of judgmental teenagers was more than I could handle."

Castiel stopped a few feet in front of me and held a hand out towards the book that was in my grasp. I handed the book over, and Castiel started to hum as he closed the book and tucked it against his side. Castiel kept humming for a moment, and his baby blue eyes stared into my green ones with a calculating look. I shifted uncomfortably under Castiel's scrutiny, and I crossed my arms as a defensive gesture. Castiel's eyes widened slightly as he took in my awkward stance, but he didn't comment on it as he instead addressed my confessions.

"Some of us delight the one on one interchanges we have with other people, but there are those who relish the comfort of solidarity. I can't presume to know which type of feeling is the optimal winner for the state of one's well being, but I believe to each its own. One way of thinking about something doesn't mean everyone should feel the same way, and no one should be polarized for having a different mindset than someone else. You need not fear judgment from me, I would never stoop to such crass behavior, and you warrant no ill-willed thoughts from any head."

I actively refrained myself from bursting out laughing at what Castiel had said. I did snicker a little before I commented, "You think I might not warrant the impolite notions of thought others may pertain to me, but I can draw them out of people like a moth to a flame. It bothers me none, nor will it ever. I think of myself as I will in my own assessment, and as Jo would say, anyone who thinks negatively about yourself may fuck off."

Castiel grimaced at my use of profanity but ended up grinning nonetheless at my bold statement. "Jo might be onto something with that belief," Castiel boasted, "I always found her to be quite invigorating and insightful, and it appears you're following in her footsteps."

"Or she in mine," I countered back against Castiel, which led us both to laugh.

"That may be true as well," Castiel admitted. "Speaking of Jo, she and John helped me set up the food, and although she won't admit it, I know Jo's ravenous from what her stomach has to say."

"I swear you can hear her stomach a mile away. People think I can hold down a lot of food, but once they eat with Jo, they find out the true meaning of consumption," I mumbled, ending my words with an adoring smile.

I struggled not to laugh when Castiel stated, "It's a good thing I made such a large pie for dinner then."

"I guess it is indeed," I told the man, "I'm feeling kinda peckish too, I guess we should all go eat."

Castiel nodded in agreement, and as I followed him out, I almost missed seeing him leave the book behind being placed in a darkened corner of the room. I didn't think much of the action and continued to follow Castiel as he led me past the living room into the kitchen, where mouth-watering scents ignited my hunger. The kitchen was massive but was kept very tidy, and I admired the copious amount of counter space as we walked past the tiled roomed floor to join Jo and John in the dining room.

"About time you guys got here," Jo sassed.

"Yeah, I thought Jo was going to resort to eating my arm off if she had to wait a moment longer," John teased before playfully shoving Jo. Jo rolled her eyes, and curiously Castiel seemed highly amused at what John had said.

"That would be a shame. They say human flesh tastes akin to poultry, but I highly doubt that would be the case," Castiel retorted.

Jo shivered with disgust and replied," That sounds nasty. I can't fathom the thought of eating another person, and if I ever did resort to something as crazy as that, John would be my last choice."

John's head snapped back, and he began glaring at Jo, seemingly offended at what she had said. "Excuse me, but why would I be your last choice? You don't think I'm good enough to be eaten?" John chastised Jo with a displeased tone of voice.

Jo snorted and didn't hesitate to answer as she snarked back, "Hell no, you're not good enough. You're like a million years old. I would go with someone younger and leaner, maybe someone like Dean." Jo threw a wink in my direction.

I rolled my own eyes at their antics, and Castiel still seemed amused with all the bantering. John dramatically lifted a hand to cover the area above his heart, and he looked wounded by Jo's words.

"Remind me never to give you another pay raise," John told Jo before he walked away from her over towards an already set up dining room table. Jo squawked and chased after John while rambling off apologies, and once again, I was left alone with Castiel.

"These are the people I work with at an esteemed FBI location. And they wonder why I sometimes want to go on vacation," I mentioned sarcastically.

Castiel glanced to where Jo and John were now pretending to fight over who was going to sit where and he looked back at me with a shit-eating grin. "Perhaps such characters can be encompassingly overbearing, but they do, however, offer a world of amusement. Without such people like them, I'm afraid the sky would always be gray."

"Gray can be a flattering color at times," I stated back.

"And so can blue," Castiel bantered before he waved at me to join the others.

Once we were all together, Castiel motioned for us all to take a seat, and I took great care to avoid making scuff marks against the pristine floor as I gently pulled my chair out away from the table. As I lowered myself into the seat, I almost flinched out of it as I felt a warm touch gaze across my backside. I whipped my head around and noticed the touch had come from one of Hannibal's hands, and he lowered the said appendage as he walked away from me to the seat, residing at the head of the table.

I didn't know what to make of the briefly shared physical contact, and I couldn't determine if the touch was deliberate as Castiel didn't make eye contact with me once he was seated. Maybe the man's hand accidentally brushed up against me when he was walking past? I couldn't see a reason why he would do such a thing deliberately. I brushed my wandering thoughts aside as I watched Castiel take hold of a fork and a knife.

"Please dig in everyone," Castiel implored us, and we all joined him as we grabbed our cutlery. Being so wrapped up with my thoughts of Castiel, I didn't notice the porcelain plate in front of me had had a large slice of pie resting on it. The crust was golden to perfection, and little rivers of what I presumed to be gravy trickled out of the crust with steam rising off of it.

"What type of pie is this?" I questioned Castiel.

"It is a steak and kidney pie. My mother made this dish all the time for my sister and me when we were younger. I'm lucky enough to have a butcher who supplies me with the best cuts of meat in town," Castiel said while looking like he was relaying an inside joke.

I didn't question Castiel further as I lifted my utensils to start cutting into my slice of pie. I got a large amount of the crust and filling onto the fork, and once it was in my mouth, I released an embarrassingly loud moan.

With my mouth still full of food, I tried to offer an apology. "I'm sorry, it's just so good."

Castiel looked like he didn't mind my lack of table manners, and he nodded at me with approval. We all ate together in silence for several moments before John brought up the topic of conversation that brought us all together in the first place.

"Castiel, you know why we came here. I once again want to thank you for agreeing to speak with us. As you might've heard, there have been multiple murders lately that all belong to a brand-new perpetrator."

"The Chesapeake Ripper. I have heard about him," Castiel revealed before he took a bite of food.

"Yes, and he's gotten bolder lately as he just killed a teenager in her room last night while her parents were sleeping. We spent all day at the crime scene, but we managed to not find any big clues, even with Dean casing the scene. If you didn't mind, doctor, we would love a fresh perspective to join us on this case and perhaps others if you're willing? We need all the help we can get, and I want to catch this son of a bitch before more dead bodies are called in. Will you help us, doctor?"

Castiel's face was unreadable, and a few seconds went by before he answered, "I would be gladly obliged to assist the FBI in their investigations. However, I offer no guarantee that the Chesapeake Ripper will be so easily caught. From what I've read about him, he is very delusional, and no one has ever been able to see what he looks like."

"It's because all that does wind up dead," I hissed in displeasure.

Castiel nodded at my statement before he continued. "No sighting, no lead...It will be challenging to find clues at his crime scenes, so we must all stay vigilant. I want Dean and me to be the first ones to see the next victim."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise by what Castiel had suggested, and John seemed taken aback as well as he questioned why.

Castiel didn't falter as he explained himself. "I am very skilled at analyzing places and people. I do not doubt your skills nor your team's John. However, many years of the same viewpoint can make one miss new opportunities to explore evidence that may become a potential shot to catch a killer. Dean is by far the most skilled assist your team has to offer. There's no doubt he can witness things; not even I could ever see. I imagine what he sees and learns touches everything in his mind. Having such a raw power Dean is invaluable to obtaining facts, and with me, by his side, I may be able to guide him and help explore his amazing view set."

Not once since meeting Castiel had I felt angry until this moment. How dare this dude talk about me like I was not even here and acting like I needed help to interpret what I saw inside my head. I didn't bother to hide the outrage in my voice as I demanded, "Who's profile are working on here? I don't need anyone to help me understand what I see. And for your information, doctor, I don't like to be psychoanalyzed. You won't like me when I'm psychoanalyzed."

I stood up from the table with my hands shaking, curled up into tight fists. I ignored the pleas from everyone at the table begging me to come back as I blindly wandered the house until I stumbled across a bathroom. I didn't even flip on the light switch as I closed the door and leaned against it. I took deep breaths, and I tried to calm my rising heartbeat as I began to release my anger slowly.

I couldn't believe I was hiding inside a bathroom with the light off because I let someone's words get to me like that. What was it about Castiel that was so different? In the past, if anyone ever dared to speak to me in the way Castiel was talking about me, I would've brushed it off and ignored them. Why was I letting Castiel get underneath my skin? I needed to man up fast and take re-control of my emotions. I wouldn't let what anyone said get to me. I needed to be stronger than that. And if Castiel thought he could worm his way into my mind and act like he knew every little detail about me, then I'd just have to show him how wrong he was.

A soft knock rapped against the door, but I made no move to get away from it. Another knock followed, and as I was expecting to hear Castiel's voice, it was surprisingly Jo's. "Dean? I know you're in there; I can hear you breathing. Will you please come out?"

I made no move to answer Jo, and she didn't say anything else, but I could feel the weight through the door as she also slumped against it. Neither one of us spoke for a moment, and I started to feel the ridiculousness of the situation. Out of the blue, I began to laugh, and Jo joined in. We both laughed together in unison at how stupid this whole situation was. I opened the door, and Jo almost fell into me before I stabilized her. I shook my head as I looked at her.

"Were you going to stay outside the door all night?" I asked her.

"If that's what it would've taken, then yes," Jo replied.

I pulled Jo into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around me with one of her hands stroking against my back in a soothing gesture. "It's okay," Jo whispered in my ear.

I pulled away from the hug, and Jo looked at me calmly as she said, "I know that you're angry, and I understand why. Castiel is devastated he caused you to feel this way. He didn't mean to make you so upset, and I think he didn't realize what he was saying would upset you. I'm not excusing anything or diminishing your feelings. I just think there was a slight misunderstanding, but I won't blame you if you don't want to work with Castiel."

I couldn't help but admit, "I don't think John would like that idea very much."

Jo glared at me as she almost practically shouted, "I could give a rats ass what John wants. The only thing that matters here is what you want and what you feel comfortable with. You know I have your back whichever way you want to go, and I'll always be here for you."

I felt dumbfounded as I looked into Jo's eyes and saw she was speaking the truth from her own heart. I felt appreciation and fondness rise up for Jo, and I ignored the slight wetness in my eyes as I told her, "I'll always be here for you too. I feel better now and kinda feel embarrassed I reacted like that. I can work with Castiel. I'll just have to learn to communicate fluently with him and try to suppress the urge to punch his handsome face if he psychoanalyzes me again."

"So," Jo began with a sly grin, "you think he's handsome?"

I snorted at Jo's words and shook my head. "I'm not even going to respond to that bait. I hope Bobby and your mom don't get married. I can't imagine you becoming my step-sister. I would never be able to escape your annoyingness," I teased her.

Jo slapped me on the arm but looked amused. "Please, if our parents get married, you will be supremely lucky to have a step-sister like me. You should feel lucky I even grace you with my presence."

"Well, we kinda work together," I deadpanned.

Jo hit my arm again, and she laughed. "Alright, you might have a point there. I can't wait for your dad to propose to my mom, though. She's been waiting every day to see that ring, and he still hasn't made a move."

"She won't have to wait for long," I assured her. "Bobby's just been waiting for the right time to pop the question. And you didn't hear this from me, but he said he was going to do it this weekend."

Jo shrieked frantically, and I tried to shush her as not to alert the other people in the house. "Shhh, be quiet. And like I said, you didn't hear anything from me. Got it?" Jo shakes her head up and down, and I sigh in relief. "Okay, we've had some sibling bonding time, but I think it's time for me to go back and face the music."

I grabbed one of Jo's hands and led her in the direction I thought the dining room was. I felt pleased as I eventually saw the dining room, and I let go of Jo's hand as we approached the others. I stood awkwardly by my seat with a hand on the back of my neck until Castiel spoke up. "Dean, I'm so happy you've returned. I apologize for my behavior. I didn't mean to cause you distress. I apologize that my words offended you."

I decided to sit back down in my seat, and I stared into those blue-eyed orbs once again before I said, "It's alright. I'm just feeling a bit touchy from this morning, and with everything going on with this case, I'm just wound up is all. We're cool though, so don't worry about it."

Castiel studied me intensely, but thankfully he seemed to buy what I was saying. "Thank you for that, Dean. I will try to watch my words in the future."

"As shall I," I asserted.

Castiel bowed his head, and everyone resumed eating as if nothing had happened. It was all too quickly before I finished my slice of pie, and Castiel wordlessly got up from the table to grab me another. While I believed nobody was perfect, it was hard not to classify Castiel as such with the fantastic cooking skills he had. This was by far the best pie I had ever had, and as a man who frequently consumed pies, both savory and sweet, that held as a high compliment in my books.

I finished my second slice in record time, and Castiel asked me if I would like another piece, but out of fear of appearing greedy, I declined his offer with politeness. Once Castiel was done eating, he grabbed a wine cork and took it to a fancy vintage looking wine. Castiel popped the cork and started to fill our glasses.

Once Castiel got to John's glass, he held a hand up in rejection. "I'm sorry, Castiel, but I no longer drink. I've seen what alcohol does to people, how it makes them act, and how it affects their minds. After seeing first-hand several times what a person will do after becoming drunk, I'm afraid I no longer desire its taste."

Castiel placed the wine bottle back down on the table away from John as he addressed John's viewpoint. "I would agree that minds are heavily altered in the state of drinking. I drink no more than a glassful at a time for only the taste rather than the altered state it can bring about. I respect your willpower to steer away from something so many people find addicting. I imagine as the person-in-charge of your unit, you have seen numerous amounts of altered states drunk or otherwise."

"That I have," John admitted with a grimace. "I've seen a lot of things in my many years in charge. There is something, however, that I've seen for over a year I can not solve. I know you, and Dean will be busy with the Chesapeake Ripper case, but if you both have any spare time, I'd like you both to look at another case."

"Which one?" I asked before Castiel had the chance to.

"The Minnesota Shrike case," John confessed begrudgingly.

"The case you took me off of?" I scolded him while feeling a flash of annoyance.

"You know why you were taken off the case, but I think you're ready now. I think out of everyone in the department you and Castiel can have this case finally solved. You know that case has had me almost pulling my hair out from frustration. I didn't tell you earlier today because you were busy with our current case objective, but the Shrike's struck again, and another girl was abducted."

As I started to sigh, Castiel chimed into the conversation. "Providing Dean is willing; I will gladly accompany him on this case as well."

Both Castiel and John looked at me simultaneously, and I waved at them to show them that I was on board. I wasn't about to give John the pleasure of hearing a verbal answer with all the grief he put me through on the previous case.

John, nonetheless, grinned wide like a cat who had caught the canary. "Alright, it's settled then. I'll give you both an updated Minnesota Shrike casefile tomorrow, and we'll try to brainstorm approaches we can try to take to catch the Chesapeake Ripper."

John grabbed his empty wine glass and held it up for a toast. The rest of us played along as we also lifted our glasses and chinked them against one another. Those of us who actually had wine in our cups drank them up, and I was pleasantly caught off guard by the rich-tasting notes from the wine as it traveled smoothly down my throat. If I didn't have to drive home, I would've asked Castiel for more wine, and I almost did end up asking for more before John stood up pretty much signaling that the dinner had come to an end. We all rose, and Castiel was the ever accommodating host as he accompanied us towards the door.

John and Jo fared Castiel a good night before heading to their cars, and I was about to do the same until Castiel stopped me. "It was truly a pleasure to meet you tonight, Dean. I know there was a bit of unpleasantness during dinner, but I hope we can put it behind us and become familiar with each other."

"I say that's very reasonable. We are about to become partners, after all. I meant what I said. Everything's all good between us. However, I want you to know I'm not the type of guy that opens up easily, and while you seem to be an exceptional person, I think we should remain professional in the presence of one another."

"God forbid we become friendly," Castiel joked.

"I don't find you that interesting," I said with as much sass as I could muster.

As I walked out the door without saying anything else, I almost stopped dead in my tracks as Castiel uttered, "You will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A/N:) I have to admit that while I love writing multiple POV'S, it's easier to write Dean's than Castiel's in this story. For some reason, I find it kind of hard to get into the right headspace to write in Cas's POV, although I promise you will get to read more from him soon. I was so happy I got to include the 'psychoanalyzing' and the 'find you interesting' lines from the show. I'm also pleased that Hannibal's finally on Netflix, I highly recommend it to anyone who hasn't seen it. I'm finally going back to work after recovering from surgery, so hopefully, it won't be too long before I can update again. Until I can post next, I hope you all have a good day.


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